Secrets of the Dragon Tomb

by Patrick Samphire

  As far as I could see, they were all the same.

  “Look at the variation in texture. Isn’t it astonishing? No, please do not touch.” This last bit came as Putty leaned forward, reaching for the rocks. “The grain on the second sample is quite delicate, you see. My personal theory is that it must have been formed when—”

  I’d had enough. I couldn’t just sit there. If Sir Titus had had someone following us, it would be the perfect opportunity for them to get up to mischief while we were being bored senseless by Dr. Blood.

  “Please excuse me,” I said, jumping to my feet.

  Dr. Blood’s eyebrows shot up. “No, no, my dear fellow! You have yet to see the finest piece in my collection. You will be astonished. However, first let me—”

  Freddie shot me a quick, considering look, then gave me the briefest of nods. A moment later, he bent forward.

  “I say!” he said loudly. “Is that a…”

  His hand knocked into one of the stones, sending it flying from the table. The geologist let out a wail.

  “Do forgive me!” Freddie said. “Knock my own head off next. Ha-ha. Here, allow me.” He leaped to his feet, and his knees caught the table, flipping it over and sending the remaining stones spinning away. I took the opportunity and slipped out of the grand salon.

  The four men had left the viewing deck and I didn’t see them anywhere else in the passageways. Maybe they’d gone back to steerage. A few other passengers were stretching their legs. I exchanged polite nods as I passed.

  There was no one in sight on the lower deck, either, and the passageway was quiet. I heard a faint, murmured conversation from behind a cabin door, but otherwise nothing but the beat of the propellers and the thrum of the wind in the ropes that bound the passenger gondola to the balloon.

  The door to our suite was closed. I relaxed. The men who’d watched us on the viewing deck had simply been bored. Why would Sir Titus think three children and his idiot student would follow him so far? He wouldn’t waste his time setting traps for us.

  I laid my hand on the door. It swung open with a creak.

  I froze. We’d locked it behind us. I knew we had.

  I bent down. The lock had been forced. The wood was splintered around it and the locking mechanism bent. I held my breath and listened.

  Nothing. If anyone was in there, they had stopped still the moment the door had opened. I didn’t much fancy my chances if I came face-to-face with an intruder. But if I had to go all the way back to the grand salon and return with Freddie, they would be gone.

  Letting my breath out silently, I slid into the room.

  Chairs had been ripped open, their cushions scattered and disemboweled. Drawers had been pulled out and dumped on the floor. Paintings had been torn from the walls. The table had been overturned. Even the rugs had been pulled up.

  I stopped for a moment, my chest tight, trying to take it all in.

  There! I heard a slight sound in Olivia and Putty’s cabin, as though someone had set something down very gently. I crept over and leaned forward to press my ear against the door.

  It crashed open.

  I jerked my head back, but not quickly enough.

  The last thing I saw was the wood slamming into my face. Then all turned black.

  12

  A Suspect

  I woke to the touch of a hand on my forehead. My head hurt. My face hurt. My neck hurt. Even one of my arms hurt. I forced my eyes open. Ow! The light was too bright.

  “Oh, good. You’re alive.”

  I squeezed my eyes into focus. Putty was leaning over me.

  “What happened?” I said.

  “Well.” Putty sat back on her heels. “Dr. Blood kept going on about his rocks and how one of them had been chipped when Cousin Freddie knocked them off the table, and then I tried to tell them about how the photon emission globes worked, because they’re really interesting and quite clever, but no one was listening, and—”

  “I mean to me. What happened to me?”

  Putty’s face fell. “Doesn’t anyone want to hear about the photon emission globes?” She looked around. “What happened to you?”

  “Help me to a chair,” I managed.

  Putty grabbed my painful arm.

  “Other one!”

  She released me. “You’re a complete mess, Edward.”

  “I was attacked,” I said. I managed to stagger to a chair. My legs were still shaky, but things were slowly coming into focus. “Where’s Freddie?”

  “That’s what I was trying to tell you. I was telling everyone about the photon emission globes—except they weren’t listening—and then Freddie said he thought you’d been gone too long, and would I go and look for you. Only…” She frowned. “I think he might just have been trying to get me to stop talking and go away. He wouldn’t do that, would he?”

  I tried a smile. “Something had happened to me, so he was right. Did you see anyone?”

  She shook her head.

  “Good.” I didn’t want Putty running into the people who had done this to me.

  Putty put her shoulder under my arm, and together we staggered back to the grand salon. The moment we came through the door, Olivia shot out of her chair with a look that was half relief and half worry. Dr. Blood sat frozen, his hand raised, holding a lump of rock.

  “What happened?” Freddie asked.

  “I was attacked,” I said. “In our cabin.” I told them quickly all I knew.

  “The ruffians!” Dr. Blood spluttered. “They must have been after your valuables. This is what happens when one allows the passengers in steerage to roam free. Steward! Steward!” He gestured to the steward who was already hurrying over.

  “Sir?” the steward said.

  “This young man has been robbed and assaulted in his own cabin. Are any of us safe? Are we to be murdered in our beds?” He grabbed his rocks from the table and shook them in two fists at the steward. “Are our valuables no longer to be protected? I am a Martian!” He clutched the rocks to his chest. “I have valuable samples in my cabin. Granite and flint among them!”

  He hurried off, only pausing to bow swiftly to Olivia.

  “I didn’t see my assailants,” I said. “I don’t think anything was taken.”

  “They smashed up our rooms,” Putty said, sounding happier than she should have. “And they knocked Edward unconscious. It was very dramatic. I thought he was dead!”

  Olivia gasped. “Parthenia! Don’t say such things.”

  “You would have, too,” Putty protested. “He looked dreadful.”

  Olivia fixed the steward with a gaze that would have scared a stone-snake. “And what exactly do you propose to do about it?”

  The steward straightened. He ran a nervous finger under his collar. “Ah … Your cabin will be restored immediately.”

  Olivia didn’t reply. She just kept her unwavering gaze on the steward.

  “And, um, we shall refund your fares. Of course.”

  He was sweating. Olivia didn’t blink.

  “You must accept our apologies. Please?”

  Olivia held his eyes for another moment, then nodded. The steward slumped in relief and hurried off. I let myself fall back onto a chaise longue.

  “You were magnificent, Cousin Olivia!” Freddie said when the steward was gone.

  Olivia stared down at her folded hands to hide a blush.

  “Edward keeps getting thrashed, doesn’t he?” Putty said. She seemed to be enjoying this. “I bet you wouldn’t have been knocked out, would you, Cousin Freddie?”

  Freddie smiled. “I’m rather more concerned by Dr. Blood. Didn’t anyone else think he was very keen to keep us here while our cabins were being searched?”

  I frowned. “Perhaps.”

  “There’s something very strange about that man, and it isn’t just his rock samples. I think it would be a good thing if we stayed together for the rest of this voyage. I don’t want any of you wandering off on your own.” He held Putty’s gaze until she nodded.
“If Edward’s attackers were Sir Titus’s men, they will try again, and they won’t hesitate to hurt us.”

  * * *

  The dinner bell rang at six, raising us from our exhausted stupor.

  “Ah!” Freddie said. “At last. I believe I could eat a pterodactyl. Whole. And not one of those pint-sized ones that have been following the airship.” He helped Olivia to her feet.

  “I trust you will leave a wing or two for the rest of us,” Olivia murmured.

  “Perhaps a claw,” Freddie said. “I am very hungry. Come, Cousin Parthenia, arise!”

  With a grunt, Putty rolled herself off the chaise longue, rubbing her eyes. “I was asleep.”

  “And snoring in a most charming manner. But dinner awaits, and that lady who just exited the salon looks like she might polish off the entire lot before we’re even seated.”

  The sun had sunk low in the Martian sky so that it was now below the level of the balloon, and golden sunlight streamed through the windows. We trailed with the other first-class passengers toward the dining room.

  “Now,” Freddie said quietly, “we’ll be safest in company. I don’t think Sir Titus’s men will be desperate enough to attack us while we’re surrounded by other passengers.”

  “And what happens when night falls?” Olivia said.

  “We’ll have to retreat to our cabins.”

  “It’s very exciting!” Putty said. “I wonder if we’ll be murdered in our beds?”

  “Sadly, I don’t think it’ll come to that,” Freddie said. “I’ll insist the captain provides guards. I doubt we will be disturbed.”

  “Oh,” Putty said, sounding disappointed. “I’d really hoped to see Edward demonstrate his special fighting techniques again.”

  I reached out to swat her, but she ducked out of range.

  The dining room was nearly full when we got there. Like the grand salon, it was illuminated by photon emission globes. The walls were paneled in dark, polished wormwood, its spiraling patterns carefully set to catch the light. A dozen waiters stood around the room. Half were human, the other half automatic servants. The automatons were Papa’s models, but none of them were the latest designs. The truth was, automatic servants were no longer as fashionable as they’d once been.

  Freddie accompanied Olivia, her hand on his arm, to the table nearest the doors. Putty and I found a pair of seats on the far side of the dining room.

  Across the table sat an older man with red cheeks and great, bushy muttonchops that were so big they looked like a strange, hairy creature that had snuck in from the wilderness and attached itself to his face. He was talking loudly with the young men on either side of him. I leaned forward slightly, trying to listen in without being noticed.

  “… thought we’d break the back of the monster right then and there,” the old chap boomed happily, “until those enormous metal beasts of his came rolling over the hill. Smashed us to pieces. Almost lost a leg, you know.”

  “You fought a monster?” Putty demanded. One of the young men lifted his quizzing glass and peered at her through it.

  “Eh? Eh?” the old gentleman said. “A monster, you say? The monster, that’s who. And it was only then,” he confided, leaning over the table himself, to the horrified looks of those around us, “that we heard of the fleet’s destruction at Trafalgar. Shocking news.”

  “Oh, you’re talking about the Emperor Napoleon,” Putty said, disappointment clear in her voice. “I thought you meant a real monster.”

  “What a singular child,” one of the young men muttered. The other laughed.

  Putty reddened. I bit back an angry comment and rested my hand on her shoulder instead.

  The old gentleman harrumphed, then turned back to his companions. “Wounded and captured, and by the time I was ransomed back, Britain’s part in the war was all but over. And that, gentlemen, is why the name of Colonel Fitzsimmons is not as well known as it should be. But that will change, mark my words. Ah. Look. Here comes the food.”

  I sat back as the waiters laid out the meats, soups, pies, fish, vegetables, and sweet puddings that made up the first course. When they were done, the old colonel glanced furtively around and gestured his companions to lean closer. I pretended to be interested in my food.

  “You have heard, no doubt, of the dragon tombs of Lunae Planum?” the old colonel said. Beside me, Putty straightened.

  “Of course,” one of the young men replied. “We are making our Grand Tour of Mars and intend to visit them.”

  “Ah,” the colonel said, his voice dropping further. “But what if I were to tell you that there is an undiscovered dragon tomb and that I—Colonel Daniel Fitzsimmons—know its location?”

  I stopped eating, my fork held unmoving before my mouth. An undiscovered dragon tomb? The coincidence was too great. Putty was almost vibrating beside me. If the colonel knew about the dragon tomb, he had to be working with Sir Titus.

  “I have a map,” the colonel confided to his now rapt audience. “When I reach Lunae City, I intend to hire native guides and uncover the tomb. The name of Colonel Fitzsimmons will be known across Mars and Earth. You may tell your children that you once shook my hand.”

  With that, he settled back and reached for his glass of wine. I saw a raw scrape across the back of his knuckles. I felt cold. In my mind’s eye, I saw him waiting behind our cabin door. Then, when I was right up against it, listening, he had slammed it open, knocking me out and injuring his hand. And here he was, sitting opposite me, enjoying his wine.

  The rest of the meal seemed to go on forever. By the time Freddie signaled across the dining room, Putty looked like she was going to explode.

  “Freddie,” I whispered as we entered the grand salon, “I have to talk to you.”

  Freddie glanced around and led us to an isolated table. “What is it?”

  “I think I’ve found the man who attacked me. He was sitting opposite me at dinner. His name is Colonel Fitzsimmons.”

  “How do you know?” Olivia asked. “Didn’t you say you hadn’t seen him?”

  “He has a map!” Putty blurted out. “To the dragon tomb! That must mean he’s with Sir Titus and he’s trying to kill us. He was talking to two other men. I bet he was trying to recruit them so they could help attack us while we’re asleep. We should ambush him. I wanted to stick him with my fork across the table, but he was too far away.”

  Freddie leaned back with a smile. “It’s a good thing you didn’t. Half the gentlemen on this airship will have dragon tomb maps.”

  I stared at him. “I don’t understand.”

  “There’s a whole industry making fake dragon tomb maps in Lunae City,” Freddie said. “They sell them to gullible men and women like your colonel. You have to understand, Lunae City is in the middle of the desert. Travel a mile or two away from the Martian Nile and there’s nothing. Just sand and rock. If it wasn’t for the money people like Colonel Fitzsimmons bring in, it would scarcely survive. The native Martians get almost nothing from the real dragon tombs. Can you blame them for trying to better themselves from the likes of Colonel Fitzsimmons? And I can promise you, the colonel is having a far better time than he has had for many years.”

  “It’s wrong,” Olivia said.

  “Perhaps,” Freddie said. “But I think it’s necessary.”

  I wasn’t so ready to give up the idea. Someone had gone through our cabin. Someone had knocked me stone cold.

  “He had a scrape along the back of his hand,” I said.

  “Which he could have gained in any number of ways,” Freddie said. “Is it really likely that an elderly gentleman was the one who attacked you, or that he should discuss dragon tombs and maps opposite you at dinner? You can’t go suspecting everyone with a bruise. But I can assure you, we will know the identity of our attackers before the voyage is out. They will not let us land in Lunae City without one last attempt on the map.”

  * * *

  The photon emission globes in the chandelier above us glowed brightly, but
even so, in the warmth and with a heavy dinner inside me, my eyes drifted closed. We hadn’t slept much last night, during the rough automatic-carriage ride, and despite the excitement of the day, I could hardly keep myself awake. Putty had already drifted into a light sleep, and Olivia seemed ready to join her. Only Freddie was managing to keep himself alert.

  “Spy training,” I half muttered, and snorted a laugh, waking Putty. I rubbed my eyes.

  The evening drew on. Freddie told ridiculous stories about Oxford, most of which I was sure he was making up, and Olivia sat ramrod-straight in her attempt to stay conscious.

  I shuffled in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position, and something poked me in the ribs. I pulled the folded copy of Thrilling Martian Tales out of my jacket. It was battered, covered in dust, torn, and charred on one corner. I brushed the dust from the cover.

  There he was. Captain W. A. Masters. Hanging from a dragon’s claws far above the ancient Martian landscape, back arched in pain, grimacing. But his hand was reaching for something in his backpack. I opened to the first page.

  Putty looked up sleepily at me. “Haven’t you read that yet?”

  I glared at her. “Are you trying to be funny?”

  She smiled and her eyes drifted shut again.

  “Do you think they’ve nearly finished repairing our cabin?” Olivia murmured as the hands of the large clock on the wall dragged past ten.

  “If they haven’t,” Freddie said, “we should demand another one. We can’t stay here all night.” He stood. “I’ll find the steward. We’re going to need rest before we get to Lunae City.” He caught sight of an automatic waiter and lifted a hand to summon the mechanism over.

  I turned my eyes to the page and read those lines that opened every Captain Masters adventure: My name is Captain W. A. Masters. I had an accident and woke up on Ancient Mars.…

  But I got no further. The salon door burst open and four men rushed in, carrying knives. Their faces were hidden by scarves.

  Chairs tumbled as the passengers around the card tables noticed the intruders. Several people screamed or swore. Then, like a flock of birds, they fled for the other exit.